We the Sea
by ctj
Summary: A collection of poems which seek to conduct a deep exploration of Linebeck and Ciela as one might explore the oceans, delving into the depths of their minds and salvaging their most submerged desires, exposing them, for the first time, under the blazing white eye of the sun. Free-verse.
1. Chapter 1

**_We the Sea  
_**

 _An Anthology  
_ _by Ctj_

 _..._

 _Dedicated to IceArrows1200,_

 _my #1 inspiration to love writing,  
as she embarks on many new adventures  
in a foreign place;_

 _Ciela and Linebeck would be proud._

 _..._

 _Hark, now hear the sailors cry_  
 _Smell the sea and feel the sky_  
 _Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic_

-Van Morrison, "Into the Mystic"

* * *

Do you ever feel like kissing someone you hate?  
the fairy asks

The captain gives her an odd look.  
Why?

I don't know,  
she sighs, shrugging,  
I just get this feeling when you...

When I what?

When you look at Jolene. I think...  
I think that maybe  
you want  
to kiss her?

The captain is baffled  
You really think I'd want to kiss  
somebody I hate?!

That was just my question,  
wasn't it?  
she retorts

His fury buzzes like a capsule  
in the silence.

So what?!  
he finally snaps,  
That doesn't make me hate her any less!

But he's said it now,  
and the fairy is triumphant  
and sports a little golden glow  
of victory

Come on, now,  
he grumbles  
Don't tell me you've never thought  
of kissing someone  
you didn't expect  
Sparkles...  
It happens

She just peers at him,  
a surprise, melancholy tug at the  
razor-thin edges of her  
lips

From time to time,  
she finally admits  
From time to time I've thought of it

See?  
he retorts, adding thoughtlessly,  
It's only human

And swirls his coat  
and swaggers away  
and slams the door to his quarters  
the boat swaying vaguely in his victory

So are you,  
she wants to say  
but it's empty air before her  
and especially below her

The horizon line splits the setting sun  
in half like a ripe red fruit,  
its juice spilling over the waters  
and fracturing off of the fairy's wings,  
the flutter sending wispy rainbows  
this way and that  
that way and this,  
little shattered rays  
of light on light

She comes to rest on  
the rusted rail of the ship,  
the low-hanging ropes  
and screeching pulleys  
of the lifeboat  
broad enough to wrap her  
hairpin arms around

and she thinks of rowing that boat  
with broad, strong,  
aching limbs,  
of sweat on her brow and great  
big magnificent pumping lungs  
and a heart that beats  
like a steaming, bellowing machine

and for the first time in a while  
she wishes for mortality  
and a body made for working  
and for straining  
and for—loving?

For to feel compassion is not enough,  
you must hold and caress and

 _kiss_

and if only… she had…

...The sun dips away  
and she,  
the only remaining  
flicker of warmth,  
stands vigil for awhile  
over the quiet,  
moon-washed deck

Funny,  
the things you learn to want  
which you'd never, _ever_ expect  
Funny, how desire springs from tension

Funny,  
how you want to be alone  
until you are

And then she drifts off to sleep,  
and dreams of being human.

* * *

 **I need to work out the poetry muscle for the sake of my writing class and CieLinebeck just puts me in the poetic mood, you know? I think I'll be adding more poems to this work for sure, so stay tuned for more free-verse in the near future. :)**

 **P.S. - Check out IceArrows1200's work! She is amaaazing.**


	2. Chapter 2

He sees her through the  
bottom of a rum bottle,  
the rim to his eye as if he's  
looking through a telescope, observing  
that nebulous splotch of yellow  
light quivering like the yolk of a  
hen's egg  
and he says,  
with a chortle,  
Hey, Sparkles,  
I bet you could fit inside

The captain lowers the bottle  
to scratch the grimy spread of  
whiskers on his lip and  
peers down at the fairy,  
seeing her little spindly arms  
crossed over  
a lithe and delicate  
pinched-in stomach

Is this your way of teasing me  
for my size?  
she mocks  
If so, I don't see why  
I shouldn't try—  
Of course I can fit  
It would be easy

So do it,  
he replies,  
the bottle tipping over,  
landing with a clunk,  
the open end yawning at  
the fairy

Fine,  
she says  
Watch me

Meanwhile he, ever pinker than  
before, feels the alcohol  
spark up and set his blood aflame  
with a sort of churning joy, twisted  
pleasure, vague and misty and  
blurred at the seams

Oh…  
I'm watching

So she, pointed nose  
aloft, seems to march toward  
the eye of the little bottle,  
hooking her arms around the neck,  
lowering her eyes, gazing  
into the abyss

It'll be easy  
(sy…sy…sy…)  
her voice echoes in  
the cavern of the empty  
vessel and she pins her  
arms up above her head  
like a quill and goes in  
fingers first,  
wings matted down  
against the smooth  
slope of her back, legs  
slipping seamlessly against the  
glass—there is a long moment  
of clutched breath, the  
captain's eyes are round  
as pearls—then she gives  
a squeal—there is a _pop  
_ like a cork—and she is in

Told you I could do it  
(it…it…it…)

He yanks the eye of the  
bottle to his own, his droopy  
brown iris scrutinizing  
her, and the reflection of her light  
against the walls of the bottle  
are a kaleidoscope,  
too brilliant to behold—  
a little gasp  
hooks in his throat,  
stopping itself before it escapes,  
and he swallows the words  
of admiration, of wonder—  
gods forbid they get out—  
gods forbid he care about something

(caring makes you weak)

What?  
she murmurs, a modest giggle  
tumbling free of fragile lips  
Haven't you ever heard of  
catching a fairy in a  
bottle?  
Link does it  
all the time

Is that some kind of joke?  
the captain laughs  
almost darkly—Link don't have  
bottles like these,  
he presses,  
So don't go there

He sets the bottle down

A few seconds later,  
the miniature fingers appear,  
then the head, and wings,  
and long legs like pencils

Maybe,  
she suggests,  
He doesn't have bottles  
like that, because  
he doesn't have thoughts  
like you

The captain wants to agree  
with her, he really does,  
but he's not ready for that  
and doesn't want to be,  
so he relinquishes the empty bottle  
to rest among two others on a shelf,  
and his lopsided legs, weighed down  
like anvils, drag his warm pink body  
to a crate in the corner  
of his quarters

He pauses briefly,  
a porthole framing his skull  
like a halo

His eyes flicker outside

Moonlight is laced  
across the smooth mirror  
of the harbor, the anchor set in  
the reef below, the waves  
clapping against the hull  
like a heartbeat

Not so far away,  
Link's life is on the line,  
sword in his hand, sweat on his brow,  
teeth clenched, arms and legs pumping  
as he runs, runs, runs  
for his life, his parched lungs  
aching for want of air  
as a shadow looms up behind him…  
either he will return,  
or he will not,  
and all the captain  
and the fairy can do  
is wait, and try not to care

So he draws up the lid  
of the crate and extracts  
another bottle, fumbling with  
the cork, the redness still flaming  
on his face

And he slurs,  
Here,  
Sparkles,  
Let's see if you fit  
inside this one.


End file.
